


Nocturne

by PunkRockPiccolo



Series: Fem!Fall Out Boy [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, Fluff, Genderbending, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkRockPiccolo/pseuds/PunkRockPiccolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the night is too much. The noise is too loud and the guilt is suffocating. Everything is her fault. It doesn't take an idiot to see that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> Another small fluff piece. I'm just writing out ideas that come into my head really.  
> This has probably been done a thousands home.

Night was always a weird time. Sometimes it was peaceful and calming. Sometimes it was passionate and racing.

But then there were nights where Petra would give anything for the sun to come up and a new day to begin.

Those nights were the worst.

The nights where every shadow fought its way into her head, tangling with the already constant cacophony of noise.

The nights where the silent voices would repeat every bad choice and wrong thing she’d ever done. Then start over with everything she could fuck up in the future, including the small girl lying next to her.

Patricia was usually her balm for such nights, but with the way all of them in the band had been working lately, Petra would rather suffer in silence then wake the sleeping singer.

And why shouldn’t she suffer? With how much misery she’d caused over the years, it’s amazing that this is all she’s being punished with.

It was her fault that Patricia got dragged into the band, and consequently the rock-star life. It was her fault that the kids didn’t like Folie, they were her words after all. It was her fault the band split, even though they where back and rocking again.

And it was her fault that Patricia had cried.

She was the one to make those tears fall down porcelain cheeks and sobs to rip from cherry lips.

It was ALL her fault.

All of it.

Her fault. Her fault.

Her fault her fault her fault her-

Petra’s breath caught in her throat, choking off a quiet, dry sob as a pale arm wound its way around her waist and warm breath tickled her neck as a strawberry blonde head snuggled into her shoulder.

“You can have your existential crisis in the morning.” Patricia’s voice mumbled, still thick with sleep. “Go to sleep.”

Petra clenched her jaw and took deep breaths, trying to calm her erratic heart and whirling mind at the same time.

When that failed to work, holding her breath seemed like the logical thing to do, so she did.

After about ten seconds, Patricia delivered a rather weak slap to Petra’s side with an annoyed grunt.

“Fuckin’ breathe dumbass. Breathe like Dr. Smith said. In two, out four. In four, out eight. You know the drill, Petra.”

Patricia’s voice was less sleep addled as she sat up slightly, leaning against the pillows bunched up by the headboard.

Petra released the breath she’d been holding in a sharp hiss, but began to count and breathe like she’d been told. Breathe in, and then out for double the counts. Slowly, but surely she felt her muscles loosen little by little as the noise in her head settled back into a dull murmur.

All the while, Patricia gently ran her fingers through the bassist’s bleached hair, scratching lightly at the already darkening roots and humming random melodies that came to her mind.

It was ridiculous how much nights like these scared her. She told Petra to always wake her up if she felt this way, but of course the older girl wouldn’t until she was buried so deep in her own head, Patricia was afraid she wouldn’t come out again.

It had been years since the stupid parking lot incident, but the fear was no less consuming.

It took a good while, but eventually Petra’s heart returned to its normal pattern and her breaths evened. With a sniffle and a light whimper, she turned over and mirrored Patricia’s position from before, her own contrastingly tattooed arm wrapped firmly around her middle and her face jammed into the junction between her neck and shoulder.

“M’sorry Trish. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Patricia huffed lightly, but turned so she could rest her arm across Petra’s and tangle their legs together.

“I told you to. Whenever you feel like this, please wake me up. I want to help you.”

Petra sighed in response and tightened her grip on the smaller girl, pulling her closer and mumbling into her nightshirt.

“Love you, Trish.”

Patricia placed a light kiss to the top of her head and smiled.

“I love you too.”


End file.
